


D - Doing Dishes

by Bdoyle1807



Series: Parenting through the Alphabet [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11592186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdoyle1807/pseuds/Bdoyle1807
Summary: The kids are a little older and have a slight mishap while arguing over who's to do the dishes.  What happeneds when they try to cover it up?





	D - Doing Dishes

 

“I washed last time,” Fitz whined as he carried a stack of saucy dishes to the sink.  He yuck-faced at them just imagining the orangey-red film spaghetti sauce would make on the water surface no matter how much they were rinsed.

 

“You most certainly did not.”  Jemma scolded taking the pile from her brother and setting them in the hot water.  “You wash and I’ll dry.”  She smiled at him.

 

“Uh uh,” Fitz shook his head, crossing his arms over his skinny chest.  “I’m not about to put my hands into that red greasy water.  Just _look_ at those suds!  They’ve already got orange bubbles lurking about in them.”  He pointed toward the sink.  “It’s just bloody disgusting!” He whined.

 

Skye climbed onto a chair and peered into the sink.  “I don’t see no blood innare, Fitz.”

 

Jemma shook a finger at her brother as she helped Skye off the chair.  “You need to watch your language, Fitz.  If she repeats that, you will be in so very much trouble.”

 

“Mama will whack your arse!”  Skye giggled, covering her mouth.

 

“Skye!” both older children admonished.

 

The smaller girl shrugged her shoulders.  “Arse ain’t a bad word.  The bad word is a…” 

 

Jemma clapped a hand over her little sister’s mouth and looked over her shoulder toward the door. 

She spun her around and shook a finger in her face.  “If momma hears you, it won’t matter which is which.  You will be the one in trouble.  Furthermore, it isn’t really a bad word.  It’s an animal, a beast of burden.”

 

Fitz couldn’t help laughing.  “Then how is it you can’t bring yourself to say it?”  He looked down at Skye and wriggled his eyebrows.  The little girl laughed and attempted to imitate her brother’s action.

 

Jemma paused for a moment shaking her head at both of them.  “You are just about wasting time, Fitz.  These dishes are not going to wash themselves.”

 

Fitz turned from his eyebrow battle with Skye and faced his older sister.  “Well, I am not about to wash them either, so I guess we have a bit of a problem.”

 

“I’ll do it!”  Skye raised her arm in the air as if answering a teacher’s question.

 

Jemma smiled down at her.  “Oh, no bao bao, you are still a might too young for this chore.”

 

Skye giggled at Fitz’s mocking of their sister behind her back then turned to Jemma and frowned.  “I’m seven, Jemma.  I ain’t a baby no more.  I could do it.”  She propped her hands on her hips and tried to take the same stance she’d seen her mother do when challenging an opponent.

“Don’t say ‘ain’t’ Skye.”  Jemma breathed her frustration.  “And you are still using double negatives.”

 

“Awww, give her a break, Jemma.”  Fitz wrapped an arm around his younger sister.  “Besides,” he addressed Skye, “you know you are still too young for this unpleasant task when you are too eager to do it.”  He sighed as he moved back to the table to collect the odds and ends of what was still there.  Skye set out a pout and followed.

 

“Where’s Trip?”  Fitz wondered.  “Isn’t he supposed to be doing his share?”

 

Jemma’s scowl turned to an excited grin as she bounced on her toes a few times before answering.  “Trip’s got a date this evening.  He is with Gram, getting ready.  It’s so very exciting.”  She clapped her hands gently.  “Momma’s excused him just for tonight.”

 

“Hmph, maybe I should get a girl friend.”  Fitz nodded down to Skye who stood at his side.  They looked at each other for a few seconds mulling over the thought then shook their heads and chorused.  “Nawwwww!”  Skye giggled as Fitz poked her with his elbow and whispered, “That would just give me a whole new set of unpleasant tasks.”  The little girl nodded although she had no idea what her big brother meant.

 

“It took poor Trip all week to get up enough nerve to ask Jessica to go to the cinema with him.”  Jemma shook her head as she stood at the kitchen window looking out toward the garage where Gram lived in the second-floor apartment.  Fitz turned up one side of his mouth and crossed his eyes causing Skye to giggle yet again.  Jemma turned back and smiled broadly.  “Da is even letting him use the car!”

 

“Woo hoo!”  Fitz twirled his finger in the air.  “Taking a shower in the middle of the day and getting all dressed up just for a girl seems a bit daft to me.”  He addressed his little sister who nodded in agreement.  “I suppose he’ll be all googly eyed over this girl as well.”

 

Jemma moved toward him, grinning wisely.  “Oh, you will change your ways, Leopold James Coulson.  In a few years…perhaps months...”  She winked at him.  “Your hormones will become active and you will feel much differently about the opposite gender.”

 

Fitz tried to hide his blush.  “That’s enough, Jemma.  I’ve been sitting in the same sssss…” He looked down at Skye who was eyeing him with those large brown peepers.  “The same adult life education classes as you have.  I know as much about puberty as you, so don’t go all technical explanation on me.”  He picked up his mother’s favorite tea cup and saucer from the table and pushed it toward his know-it-all sister.  “And I’m still not washing those horrid sauce covered dishes.”  Fitz was embarrassed as well as a tad angry.

 

Jemma reached for the cup and saucer trying to hold on to her own ire.  They both watched as the items slipped from their hands and crashed to the tile floor scattering small pieces in all directions.

 

“Uh oh,” Skye grimaced as the handle of the delicate cup spun around on its edge and came to a stop at the tip of her sneaker.

 

“You did it!”  Jemma and Fitz pointed at each other, accusing the other simultaneously.

 

“You dropped it!”  Fitz pointed to his sister, frantic that she had let the precious cup and saucer fall.

 

“You let go before I had it!”  She countered almost in tears.

 

“You guys ‘er in big, big trouble,” Skye shook her head and bit her bottom lip.

 

 “Nǎinai gave that to mom a long time ago,”  Fitz whispered mostly to himself as he stood staring at the carnage.

 

“Don’t just stand there!”  Jemma scolded.  “We need to fix this.”

 

Skye was crouched down on her haunches examining the pieces.  “I don’t think you could get all them pieces all together again.  I think it’s like Humpty Dumpty.”  She shook her head and scrunched up her face at her siblings.

 

“Well, all the king's horses and all the king's men had better get busy before Mom comes in and sees this mess.”  Fitz shook his head.

 

“What are we going to do, Fitz?  This is Momma’s favorite cup.  She has been using it forever.”  Jemma sounded close to tears then noticed Skye poking at the pieces.  “Don’t touch, Skye.” She warned.  “You’ll cut your finger and we will have that to deal with.”

 

Skye pulled her hand back and rested both on her bent knees.  She looked up at Jemma.  “Then Fitz could say ‘bloody’?”  Jemma rolled her eyes.

 

Fitz had moved to the pantry and returned with broom and dust pan.  “I think we can salvage the saucer,” he commented thoughtfully.  “It’s only broken in three pieces, but the cup might have to be sacrificed.”

 

“Wait,” Jemma had an idea.  “Remember that compound that Stephen Weiss was developing for sealing aquariums?”

 

Fitz thought for a moment then nodded with a frown.  “I do, Jemma, but when it dried it looked very much like spit.”  He grimaced at Skye who crinkled her nose as she stood to listen to the ‘plan’.

 

“Yes, but I’m sure if we put our heads together we can improve on that.”  Jemma was smiling again as she pulled a brown paper bag from under the sink and begin wrapping each piece of the saucer in paper toweling before setting it gently into the sack.

 

Now Fitz was frowning.  “Like Weiss is going to let us anywhere near his pet project.”  He shook his head.

 

Jemma began collecting the small pieces of the cup.  “Stephen Weiss wants an ‘A’ on his project.  The only way he can do that is if he lets Leopold Fitz help him.  You simply offer to let him take all the credit and I am quite certain he will acquiesce.”

 

Fitz was all smiles until Jemma finished.  “Are you bleedin’ doo-lally?  Give that galoot all the credit for my work…because you know the lazy dolt will just sit back and watch and I’ll…”

“You’ll be responsible for fixing Momma’s favorite cup and…”  Jemma smiled.

 

“And not gettin’ yer arse whacked!”  Skye finished attempting to mimic her brother’s brogue.

 

“SKYE!” Both siblings admonished.

 

“Momma is not going to whack anyone, Skye.  It was an accident.”  Jemma assured her little sister as she placed the last piece, the intact cup handle, into the bag and folded it closed.

 

Skye leaned on an arm on the table and scowled at her sister.  “Well, she whacked me when I broke the glass on the patio _and_ she made me stay in my room a long time.”

 

Fitz snorted as he put back the broom and dust pan.  “You were throwin’ a bloomin’ fit because you wanted a different one.  You threw the bloody thing.  That was no accident, Skye and you know it.”

 

Skye shrugged her shoulders and turned up one side of her lip.  “Still broke…same thing.  You guys was fighting and it got broke so yer still in trouble.”

 

Jemma was suddenly concerned that little sister might spill the beans.  “Come on now, Skye.  You wouldn’t want Momma to be sad, would you?”  She shook her head as she spoke.  “This is her favorite cup.  Fitz and I are going to take it to school and fix it for her.  We’ll bring it back and it will be fine.”

 

Skye narrowed her eyes and drummed her little fingers on the table.  “You sound like the Grinch¹, Jemma.   ‘I’ll fix it up there and bring it back here.¹’” She quoted the Dr. Seuss tale.

 

Fitz rolled his eyes.  “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to read that book to her so many times.  She knows the bloody thing by heart.”

 

Jemma took a deep breath.  “Skye, this needs to be our secret.”  The little girl’s brows shot up.

 

“Momma said it ain’t good to keep secrets, Jemma.”  She reminded her sister.

 

Jemma nodded, placing a hand on Skye’s shoulder.  “Yes, sweetheart, you’re right.  But this is a good secret and we’ll only keep it until the cup and saucer are repaired.  We’ll bring them back and then all three of us will tell Momma all about the accident.”

 

Skye scowled at her sister and looked to her brother who nodded in agreement.  It seemed a little silly to her to keep a secret and then tell anyway.  Jemma realized she’d have to do a bit more than simply convince the little girl to keep quiet.  She looked at Fitz and sighed.  “You can help me wash the dishes.  Would you like that?”

 

The little girl’s eyes opened wide as a smile spread across her face and she nodded vigorously.

 

Forty-five minutes later Jemma was mopping up the water from the kitchen floor and Fitz was attempting to quash all the suds from the sink when Melinda stepped into the room.

 

“What happened here?”  She smiled at her brood.

 

“Well,” Fitz stepped back and shook the water from his hands.  “It seems that adding extra soap to dissolve the saucy grease was not the best idea.”

 

Jemma brushed the hair from her face with the back of her hand and leaned on the mop she held.  “And dumping a whole pot of water on top of them didn’t help either.”  She let out an exasperated breath.

 

“Jemma let me help!”  Skye smiled as she dashed toward her mother.  Melinda stopped her at arm’s length.  The little girl was soaked from her neck to her knees.  Orange residue was evident on her clothing and her arms. 

 

“I see.”  Melinda grinned, noticing the other children were only a tad less drenched than this one.

 

Fitz watched as the last of the suds circled the drain then brushed his hands together.  “But the dishes are washed, dried and back in the cupboards.”  He smiled at his mother giving her a thumb’s up.

 

“And the floor has been scrubbed as an added bonus,”  Jemma added with a tired smile.

 

“Okay,” Melinda sighed as she placed one hand on the top of Skye’s head and directed her toward the stairs.  “Then how about we all get some dry clothes?  And you,” she shook the little girl gently, “are going straight into the bathtub.”

 

Skye crinkled her nose.  “I just washed, Momma.  Why I gotta take a bath, too?”  She leaned her head back and looked up through her mother’s fingers.

 

“Because, bao bao, you are the only one I know who can get dirty while getting clean.”  She squeezed the fingers on her hand a few times and nudged the little girl forward. 

 

Fitz and Jemma stood side by side watching until their mother and sister started up the stairs.  “Where’s the bag?”  Fitz whispered out of the side of his mouth.  Jemma nodded toward the item setting in plain view on the counter top.

 

Melinda leaned over the railing and called back to her older children.  “Let’s go you two.  You are just as wet as this one.”  They could hear their baby sister giggling as she hurried up the stairs.

 

“Just finishing up a bit more,” Jemma called back.

 

“Don’t take too long,” Melinda warned. 

 

Both kids listened as the sound of their mother’s footsteps went from the stairs to the upstairs hall and the telltale hum of water gushing into the bath met their ears.

 

“I’ll put it into my satchel,”  Fitz informed his sister as he took the bag. 

 

“Do be careful, Fitz.  We don’t want the pieces to be any smaller.”  Jemma gasped as he grabbed it.

 

“Oh, you’ve gone and wrapped them like archeological specimens.”  He shook his head.  “Even the Smithsonian would be proud.”

Jemma couldn’t help laughing at his comment as she followed him to the family room where their school bags were kept.  The pieces would be safe and secure there until they got to school tomorrow.

 

xx

  

Stephen Weiss was a jerk and it took three days of constant badgering to convince him that he needed Fitz’s help.  The fact that his adhesive let off the most obnoxious odor when he once again demonstrated to the class was a great help.  Even the profession had to excuse himself from the classroom when the stuff started smoldering. 

 

Fitz purchased several cups from the local dollar store in order to experiment and in a week had the solution down to a pearl colored paste that dried clear and had no scent at all.  He tested one of the cups by dropping it then gluing the pieces together and filling it with hot water.  Fitz and Weiss smacked a high five a few seconds before the pieces dropped away and the water leaked to the floor.  Fitz tried cold water with the same result.  Apparently, the glue worked as long as it didn’t get wet so it was back to the drawing board for both boys.

 

Jemma spent the time hoping to keep her mother from missing the cup and her sister from letting the proverbial cat out of the bag.

 

“Why would a cat be inna bag, Jemma?”  Skye crinkled her nose at her sister’s comment.  “He could just rip outta it.”  The little girl looked up from the page she was coloring.

 

Jemma sighed, “It’s just an old saying Skye.”  She explained.

 

“Oh,” the younger girl nodded.  “Who sayed it?”

 

Jemma shook her head.  “Said, Skye.  Who said it?”

 

Skye shrugged her shoulders without looking up.  “I dunno, Jemma, s’why I asked you.”

 

Jemma smiled at her little sister.  “No one said it, Skye.”  She explained.  “It’s just another way to say don’t blabber.”

 

“I didn’t do any blabber, Jemma.”  Skye sighed. 

 

“Hey, ladies, what are you up to on this rainy Saturday and where is your brother?”  Melinda asked as she stepped over Skye who was lying on the floor with her book and crayons.

 

“He’s making glue,”  Skye informed her mother as she fingered through the pile of colors searching for just the right one.

 

Melinda stopped mid-stride and furrowed her brow at the little girl.  “He’s what?”

 

“School project,” Jemma squeaked before Skye could reply.  “He’s working on a school project, it’s very intense.  The deadline is approaching so he is hard at it.”  She poked a fist across her midsection and smiled at her mother.

 

“And where exactly is he creating this glue?”  Melinda inquired with trepidation.  Fitz was known to create small explosions and had recently burned a hole in the rug of his bedroom with a failed experiment.  She looked toward the ceiling.

 

“Oh, no, no, no,” Jemma assured her.  “He learned his lesson last time.  He’s out in the garage with a friend from school.  They’re working on it together.”

 

“Does your father know?”  Melinda wondered if Phil had given the little guy permission to work near his prized Corvette and if Mrs. Triplett was safe in her apartment.

 

“Daddy took Lola fer a ride.”  Skye turned and informed her mother.  “He dint wanner get all sticky.”

 

“The worst that could happen is a terrible smell.  He hasn’t put anything into it that might be combustible.  Professor McAdams insisted that be part of the criteria.”  Jemma nodded toward her mother.

 

“Good to know,” Melinda pursed her lips and nodded.  “How about picking up some of this stuff in here?”  She looked around at the various items strewn across the room.  Reaching down she pulled a pink sneaker that poked out from under the sofa.  “Isn’t this the shoe you’ve been looking for, shǎ gūniáng*?”  She bent down and tapped Skye’s bottom with the shoe.

 

“Xièxiè māmā,*” Skye smiled as she continued coloring a purple and green dog.  “Nǐ xǐhuān wǒ de túpiàn ma?**”

 

“I love it.”  Melinda smiled.  “I wish I had a purple dog.”

 

Skye flipped over and sat up.  “Me too, mommy, a doggid be great!  I love dogs.”

 

Melinda raised an eyebrow.  “We’ve had this conversation, Skye.”

 

The little girl pouted then turned back to her coloring grumbling that when she grew up she was going to have ten dogs.  Melinda shook her head.  She picked up a sock, a yellow crayon and two Legos.  “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you ladies, have you seen my tea cup?  I can’t seem to find it.”

 

Skye stopped coloring and looked up at Jemma who frozen in assembling a 3D model of the human heart.  Jemma laughed nervously, “You don’t believe it’s in here, do you?”

 

“No, silly,” Melinda grinned as she dropped the crayon on Skye’s pile and tossed the Legos into a bin behind Jemma.  “I just can’t imagine where it is.  Maybe I left it at Gram’s when we had tea last week.”  She seemed to be talking more to herself so Jemma let the subject drop.  The woman picked up a few more items of scattered laundry, informed the girls she would be in the basement if needed and left the room.

 

Jemma let out a relieved sigh.

 

 

 

 

Skye sat up and crisscrossed her legs in front of her.  “You lied, Jemma.  Momma don’t like lies.”  She shook her head and pushed her hair from her eyes.

 

“I did not lie.”  Jemma retorted.  “Fitz is truly working a school project and I didn’t say I hadn’t seen the cup I just questioned if she was looking for it in here.”

 

“Ain’t that a lie on admission?”  Skye scrunched up her face and asked.

 

“O-omission,” Jemma corrected as she nibbled the end of her thumb nail and remembered the last time she found herself in a similar position.

 

xx

 

Fitz pushed the door to Jemma’s bedroom open and slipped inside.  He tiptoed across the floor and shook the end of her bed.

 

“Jemma…Jemma,” he called in a loud whisper.  “Are you sleeping?”

 

“You wouldn’t make a very good spy, Fitz.  I heard you as soon as you opened the door and since I am speaking to you it is quite clear that I am not sleeping.”  Jemma grinned as she sat up and flicked on the light.  “What are you doing in here?”

 

The boy plopped down on his sister’s bed and held up one of the white mugs he’d been using as test subjects.  He smiled as he held it out to her then brought it to his lips and sipped the liquid it held.

 

Jemma jumped to her knees and crawled across the bed to him.  “You did it!”  She squealed, then clapped a hand over her mouth.  “You did it,” she whispered again.

 

“Works with both hot and cold and you can barely see the seams.”  He slid his fingers across the surface of the cup proudly.  “We tried it on several substances as well. It works on wood, plastic, glass and ceramic.”

 

Jemma’s smile faded.  “What about china?”

 

“It’s bone china, Jemma.  I had Mr. Cummings from Archeology look at the pieces.  “He says it’s a type of soft-paste porcelain that is composed of bone ash, feldspathic material, and kaolin. It has been defined as ware with a translucent body containing a minimum of thirty percent of phosphate derived from animal bone and calculated calcium phosphate.”  He looked at the cup in his hand and frowned.  “I’m afraid it’s rather costly.  One fine cup could cost up to seventy-five dollars.”  He shook his head.  “Even if I could afford to buy one I wouldn’t even know where to look and it would be a shame to break the thing, then wouldn’t it.”

 

“So you haven’t tested it on momma’s cup?”  Jemma asked timidly.

 

“Not yet,” Fitz frowned again.  “There’s a high probability it could cause it to disintegrate.”

 

“Maybe you could try it on something similar,”  Jemma suggested.

 

“I suppose,” Fitz agreed but I’m not quite sure what I might use to simulate cow bone ash or any of the other components for that matter.  I’m thinking I should just paste a few pieces together and see what happens.”  He informed her, waiting for her approval or permission.  Whatever came first.

 

They both jumped as the door opened.  Fitz passed the now empty cup to Jemma who quickly stashed it under the blanket.

 

“What are you two doing up?  Do you know what time it is?”  Melinda whispered as she pushed the door open and glared at them.

 

“I…I…I’ve got a big test tomorrow and I was…a…just worried and couldn’t sleep.”  Fitz stammered.

 

“So you thought you’d wake Jemma and have her join you?”  Melinda scowled as she reached out a hand for him.  “Let’s go, back to bed.  I’m sure you’ll do fine on whatever test.  You always do.”

 

Fitz looked over his shoulder as his mother dragged him from the room and cast his sister a quick wink.  Jemma waited until the door clicked shut then pulled the small cup from beneath the blanket and stashed it in the nightstand drawer.  She turned out the light and rolled back into her bed.  Jemma Simmons knew she was smart, but Fitz?  Fitz was a genius.

 

xx

 

Melinda stood at the kitchen window sipping tea from an everyday mug. She watched as Jemma and Skye slipped into the garage.  Fitz had gone in a few minutes earlier.

 

“You know, Phil,” she said as she turned to her husband who sat reading a service proposal at the kitchen table.  “I think those three are up to no good.”

 

Phil looked up and then around his wife, squinting at the large structure a few hundred feet from the patio.  He pushed his glasses up on his nose.  “Hmmm, Skye and Fitz maybe but not Jemma.  She’d be eaten up by guilt.”  He turned back to his reading.

 

“I don’t know,” Melinda turned back to the window and sipped her tea again.  “They’ve been acting pretty strange.”

 

“We’ve got two geniuses and a child raised by wolves.  They always act strange.”  He laughed.

 

“I don’t think the sisters of St. Agnes would appreciate you comparing them to carnivorous animals, Phil.”  Melinda scoffed.

 

“Have you met some of those ladies?”  Phil asked over the rim of his glasses.

 

Melinda rolled her eyes and watched as Fitz stepped into the driveway and took a deep breath before hurrying back inside.  “Do you know what Skye asked me this morning?”  She asked as she sat at the table next to her husband.

 

“I can just imagine,”  Phil replied as he flipped a page in the thick document he held.

“She wanted to know why a person would put a cat in a bag and if it could get out on its own.”  Melinda shook her head and looked out at the garage again.  “You don’t think they have an animal out there do you?  Maybe we should check.”

 

Phil grabbed her arm and set down his paperwork.  “There are no animals in the shed, Mel…well except for the ones we refer to as our kids.”  He laughed as he placed his glasses on the table and stood to stretch his limbs.  “Fitz is still working on that project of his.  The girls are just curious.”

 

“Oh, Phil, if Skye gets into that glue she might stick herself to something we’ll have to pry her from.”  Melinda worried.

 

Phil laughed, “Or he’ll have figured out a way to keep her in one place for more than ten seconds.”

 

“That’s not funny, Phil.”  Melinda groaned as she stood and put her cup on the table.  “We really should check on them.”

 

Phil grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  “There’s no smoke and Jemma’s got a level head.  She’ll keep them in line or let us know if we need to intercede or referee or issue a cease and desist order.”

 

Melinda thought for a moment.  “I guess you’re right, but if there’s an animal involved someone is going to pay…big time.”  She warned as he pulled her close and stopped her with a kiss.

 

xx

 

“How did you get it to adhere so perfectly?”  Jemma marveled.

 

“I used the bones from the steak Da made on the grill a few days ago.  I boiled them and then ground them in the rock tumbler at school.  I added it to the compound and it worked perfectly.”  Fitz boasted.

 

“It looks like it did before,” Skye remarked as she reached to touch the delicate blue flowered cup.

 

Fitz slapped her hand away.  “Don’t touch!”

 

“Hey!” Skye pulled her hand back and hugged it to her chest.  “Ya don’t hafta hit.”

 

“Fitz!” Jemma scolded.

 

“It isn’t dry yet.”  The boy explained.  “We can’t take any undue risks.”  He looked at the dark frown on his little sister’s face.  “I’m sorry, Skye.  I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you can’t touch it yet.”  The little girl nodded but continued to nurse her injured hand.

 

“Well, we can’t leave it here.  Momma and Da are in and out all the time.”  Jemma pointed out to her brother.

 

“That’s the beauty of it, Jemma.  Don’t you see?”  Fitz smiled.

 

Jemma shook her head while Skye stared at the cup wondering what she was supposed to see there.

 

“We just leave it here in plain sight,”  Fitz explained.  “Mom said she couldn’t find it, didn’t know where she left it.  So we just let it set right here until she finds it and thinks she left it here.”  He held out his hands and teetered his head at his own ingenuity.

 

“I don’t know, Fitz.”  Jemma was doubtful.

 

“What if she don’t find it?”  Skye pondered.

 

“Then someone else will.”  Fitz smiled.  “Da or Trip will come across it and carry it into the house.  We won’t have to worry about how to get it inside without being caught.”

 

“I thought we was supposed to tell her what _really_ happened.”  Skye reminded her siblings.

 

“We _were_ , Skye, _were_.”  Jemma corrected.

 

“So now we not?”  Skye bounced a hand in front of her, clearly confused.

 

“ _We’re_ not.” Fitz also corrected and Skye shook her head.

 

“Why we lyin’ ?”  Skye moaned.

 

“What?”  Jemma exclaimed.  “Who’s lying?”

 

“Us,” Skye pointed to herself and then to each of them. “Lying in emission,” she explained.

 

“You had to explain that to her, didn’t you.”  Fitz shook his head.  “Omission, Skye.  Emission is the exhaust that comes out from the car.”

 

“Oh,” Skye nodded, studying the small cup and saucer again.

 

“We’re just going to wait until Momma has the cup and sees that it is in perfect condition,”  Jemma assured her little sister as Fitz nodded in agreement.

 

Fitz brushed his hands together and collected his tools, placing them in the box he kept under his father’s workbench.  “Okay, so we all keep quiet until we see Mom reunited with her cup. Agreed?”

 

The girls nodded as they followed their brother out of the garage.

 

 

The following morning Melinda sat at the breakfast table with her favorite cup and saucer in front of her.   Fitz stopped in his tracks as he entered the room.  Jemma crashed into his back sending him forward a few steps.  Both stared at the cup in front of their mother.

 

“You found it!”  Jemma smiled as she stepped around Fitz and tilted her head just a smidge urging him forward.  She quickly kissed her mother’s cheek before dropping into her chair.

 

“No, Trip found it in the garage of all places.”  Melinda smiled, eyeing both children warily. 

 

“The garage?”  Jemma sighed.  “How very odd.” 

Fitz moved to his seat and grabbed the box of cereal in the center of the table.  “How’d it get in there, do you suppose?”  He posed as he poured.  Suddenly, keeping quiet and unfazed was not as easy as he expected.

 

“Can’t say,” Melinda breathed.  “I don’t ever remember drinking tea in the garage and I’m positive your dad wasn’t using it.”

 

“G’morning, Momma,” Skye yawned as she slipped into her seat and frowned at the box of cereal.  “I noen’t like th…  Yer cup!  You gots yer cup back!”  She jumped off her chair and raced to the opposite side of the table wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck and kissing her cheek.

 

“I do,” Melinda smiled at her baby’s enthusiasm.  She did not miss the glance exchanged by the older children.

 

“Are you happy, momma?”  Skye smiled before kissing her mother’s cheek again.

 

“I am,” she tapped the little girl’s nose as she picked up the tea pot and poured the steamy reddish liquid into the delicate cup.

 

“Mornin’!”  Trip beamed as he came through the back door.  He grabbed a mug from the upper cupboard and poured a coffee into it.  “Da says he’ll be right in.  It took a bit longer than we thought it would to replace that water heater for Gram, but she says it’s working fine.”  The young boy beamed at the recent accomplishment.  “Mom’s got her cup back.  Ya notice?  Can’t believe it was in the garage all this time.  Weird, huh?”

 

“Weird, yeah,” Fitz agreed as he poured milk onto his Cheerios™ and reached for a banana.  Jemma simply nodded while Skye peaked around the box of cereal in front of her.

 

Trip sat down next to his baby sister and grabbed the box she hid behind.  He smiled at her surprised look.  “Sorry, baby girl, were you using this?” 

 

Skye shook her head.  “I noen’t like them, Trip.  Raisins is yuck.”

 

“Are,” everyone at the table correct without looking at the little girl who simply shrugged.

 

Melinda put her fingers on the handle of her cup.  Fitz stopped a spoonful of Cheerios halfway to his open mouth.  Jemma almost dropped the orange she had started to peel and Skye simply stared as their mother lifted the cup to her mouth, took a sip and set it back down on the saucer.  Skye’s eyebrows shot up as both Jemma and Fitz exhaled before continuing their breakfast.

 

“I never realized my having a cup of tea was so mesmerizing.”  She commented to Trip who just smirked at the younger kids.  She crinkled her nose and smacked her lips a few times.  “Funny, this tea tastes a little like charbroiled steak.”

 

Fitz almost spit his cereal back into the bowl but grabbed his juice instead, taking a large gulp before setting it back on the table.  Jemma’s orange slipped from her hand to the edge of her plate causing it to clatter a few times before sending her fork and spoon to the tiled floor with a round of clinking as they bounced around the legs of her chair.  Skye pulled the Cheerios box in front of her suddenly very interested in the information listed on the back.

“You guys are just a bit weirder than usual this morning,” Trip mused.  “What’s up?”

 

“We’re just happy that momma found her cup,”  Jemma answered before the others.  Fitz nodded while Skye just stared at the cup and saucer as she peeked around the box.

 

“Morning, all!”  Phil smiled as he opened the back door.

 

“Daddy!”  Skye squealed running and leaping into his arms.  She hugged his neck and kissed his cheek.  “I like French Toast cus it _are_ not raisins.”

 

“Is,” the table chorused.

 

Skye dropped her head on Phil’s shoulder.  “I never gets it right.”  She sighed.

 

Phil smiled and kissed her head before setting her on her feet.  “Don’t worry, sweet pickle, you will.”

 

“I not a pickle, daddy.”  Skye frowned as she placed her hands on her hips.

 

Phil wriggled his eyebrows at her.  “Let me wash my hands and then we will make some Toast a la France!”  He started for the kitchen sink.

 

“Bathroom,” Melinda ordered without looking at him.  She took another sip of tea and grimaced at the flavor.

 

Stepping behind his wife, Phil placed a quick kiss on top of her head and rested his hands on her shoulders.  “Ah, momma’s got her cup back.  How’s it working, dear?”  The kids giggled at his antics.

 

“It works like a cup, but tastes like grilled T-bone.”  She turned down the sides of her mouth. 

 

Phil reached over his wife and picked up the cup by its sides.  The kids held their breath and watched as he took a sip then put it back down.  He smacked his lips a few times then nodded.  “It is a little gamey.”  He stuck out his tongue and shook his head.

 

Fitz and Jemma exchanged a quick glance while Skye watched both as if she was at a tennis match.  Melinda slipped her finger in the handle once again and started to lift the cup just as a soft plink separated it from the cup.  She raised her brows and tilted her head as she brought just the small round piece to eye level.

 

“Uh oh,” Skye grimaced.

 

Melinda glared at her brood while Phil stood back and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Somebody better start talking.”  She growled through her teeth.

 

Trip excused himself with a chuckle claiming complete innocence as well as ignorance of the whole affair.  Phil and Melinda marched their pajama clad miscreants into the family room and lined all three up on the couch.

 

“Skye didn’t do it,” Fitz began, immediately protecting his baby sister.  “I dropped the cup and broke it.”  He wasn’t about to let Jemma take the blame either.

 

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Fitz?”  Melinda asked.

 

The boy shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s your favorite, the one Nainai gave to you.”

 

“We dint want you to be sad, Momma.”  Skye sniffled.

 

“We both broke it,” Jemma stared at her fingers.  “It’s not all Fitz’s fault.”

 

“It’s just a cup, Jemma,” Melinda explained.  “It can be replaced.”

 

“We have eleven more in a box in the attic,”  Phil told them.  “Nainai gave us a whole set when we were married.  We just never had a reason to use them.”

 

“Actually, there are ten in that box.”  Melinda corrected him.  “Remember the one you knocked into the sink after that Christmas party?”  

 

Phil nodded.  “And the one Hunter knocked out of your hand a few summers ago.”

 

The kids looked at each other and took deep breaths.  “We didn’t know,”  Jemma spoke for the group.  

 

“Cups can be replaced, but you covered up what you did and then lied about it.”  Melinda pointed out with a frown. 

 

“You’re mother’s right, cups can be replaced but once you break trust…well, that’s different.”

 

“We’re sorry, da.”  Fitz sighed.  Jemma wiped the tears that rolled over her cheeks but Skye could not contain her sobs.

 

“We didn’t want you to be sad, but I think being disappointed in us is much worse.”  Jemma sniffed as she wrapped an arm around her little sister.

 

“We were going to tell you as soon as you got your cup back all in one piece.”  Fitz offered without looking either parent in the eye.

 

“We wasn’t gonna mission anything.”  Skye stammered through her tears.

 

Melinda turned away unable to face her penitent children whose only crime was trying to keep her from being saddened by the loss of that stupid cup.  How could she punish any of them for that?

 

Fitz glanced sideways at Jemma.  It had been a few years but he remembered the last time they did something sneaky and got caught in a lie.  He figured she was thinking the same thing.  Of course this time they didn’t do anything dangerous and nobody got hurt so that had to count for something.

 

Phil stood glaring at his contrite brood then looked to Melinda who still stood with her back to them.  He caught her smile.

“Well,” Phil placed his hands on his hips and pursed his lips.

 

“Please da,” Fitz stopped him before he could continue.  “Please don’t punish Skye.  She only did what we said.  She really is innocent in all of this.” He bounced to his feet in his effort to convince his father.

 

Melinda turned back and motioned to Phil that she would take over.  He nodded and stepped back.  “The first thing you are going to do is glue that handle back on my cup.”  She pointed a finger at Fitz.  He nodded quickly.   “Then we are going to put it in the breakfront so we can see it and remember what we learned from it.”  Jemma nodded along with her brother.  “The three of you are going to bed one hour early for one whole week, two if I hear one complaint.”  She held up two fingers.  “And…”

 

Fitz and Jemma held their breath dreading whatever would come next.

 

“And you are going to tell me why that tea tasted like a burnt porterhouse.”

 

With that, Melinda opened her arms and gathered her relieved crew for a family hug.  Skye wriggled free and reached up to Phil who lifted her to his shoulder.  She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and smiled at him.

 

“French Toast now, Daddy?”  She smiled and he smiled back.

 

 

 

¹ How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Dr. Seuss, Random House, 1956

*silly girl

** Thank you, mommy

*** Do you like my picture?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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